Need
by poopaw
Summary: "After all, missing each other doesn't mean they're meant to be with one another." Sam and Rachel: their start, climax, and ending.


**Need**

by poopaw

* * *

"You kissed him."

Rachel immediately whips towards his direction, where he stepped out of the shadows, and Sam swears he could literally hear her heart drop to her stomach in guilt. He feels numb, and it sucks because for the longest time, being with Rachel felt like the happiest thing ever and now, she's made him _numb_.

He's spent the past few months with her, both in New York and Lima, so he's pretty confident in the fact that he knows her like the back of his hand. This meant that seeing her one moment completely nerve-wracked and swimming with guilt, and the next moment absolutely schooled wasn't at all that surprising to him. She's _acting_. And Sam increases the numbness he's trying to channel because she _never_ had to pretend when she was with him.

"Sam," she takes a few steps towards him. He hears the strain in her voice. "Sam, let me explain."

He doesn't let her because the situation feels all too familiar for him (halls of McKinley, kissing, cheating, not him, never enough, lies) but this time it's brunette curls that torment him, instead of the immaculate blonde ponytail.

"No," he quietly but strongly cements. She stops her walk because he's never used that tone on her and he knows it. He's always been happy-go-lucky, a little bit obtuse but overall very sweet Sam to her. "Go to New York, Rachel. Go to NYADA or take that job, I don't want to care anymore. I'm _out_."

He finishes whatever they had just as fast as his previous ones because if he lingers, he will break and _god_, if she was anything like Quinn (and maybe she is because look at that, she kissed another man just like Quinn had in high school, and _fuck_, how did he get himself in these situations again?), then she could use that as ammunition against him.

Sam takes one more good look at her and sees her staring at him in disbelief. This is all too high school and he really thought Rachel, more than anyone else, was over high school. Sure, they were back in the very same halls but that was it. He draws the line there because the things they've been through since they graduated should have been enough to change them.

And Rachel, more than anyone else, has experienced curveball after curveball and lived through it.

But it's clear to him that she's still there because she didn't have the decency to at least break up with him, or whatever you call ending their pseudo relationship is, before kissing another man.

He feels so _disappointed_ but whatever. He's over this.

"Sam, _please_, wait –"

He walks out before things get messy.

* * *

Sam gets these stupid blackouts. There are memories that he can't place and situations he doesn't remember. And it sucks because it feels like a giant chunk of his brain's been cut off by someone evil, a villain that hates his guts or something, and he can't do any of his day-to-day saving without it. He hates the fact that most of these scenarios involve Rachel because he's slowly coming to realize that memories with Rachel are fun, and he really likes having her around. She's bright and honest and passionate to a fault.

"Hey Rachel."

They're spending their lunch period in the auditorium. Rachel's tweaking something on the piano, probably a song for later's glee club session. He's not really sure because he tuned her out a couple of minutes ago to try and tap into the memories he can't quite remember. He knows it's not the smartest decision he's made because then, he misses out on what's currently happening, but whatever. He's trying, that's what counts.

"Hmm?" she says, stopping her musings on the piano long enough to turn to him.

He stretches out on the floor, deciding that it'd be much easier to tell her about his blackouts if he didn't look at her. He doesn't need to see the judgment in her eyes if it turns out that she doesn't believe him.

"I've been having this weird blackouts and I feel like my dyslexia's evolving into something worse. Is that possible?"

"What do you mean?"

"It mostly happens when I'm with you," he mumbles. "I talk to you and it's like, I blackout. And the next thing I know, I'm kissing you or giving you awful set lists. The kissing is okay but the set list was really weird. And what if I'm developing some weird dyslexic hybrid sickness?"

"Huh?"

She sounds genuinely confused that he rolls over, angling his body towards her. She has that cute _I-have-no-idea-what-you're-talking-about_ look that she sometimes gets when he talks impressions and Avatar.

"I forget stuff when I'm with you. And it sucks because I like remembering what happens when I'm with you, you know?"

Rachel's eyes turn sappy and she takes a seat next to him on the floor. She's smiling down at him and he honestly doesn't understand what's happening. But it's okay because she's looking at him like _that_ and it makes him feel warm inside. She takes a hold of his hand and plays with it a little.

"You're sweet."

Sam thinks that perhaps, Rachel doesn't understand the gravity of what he just told her and he wants to explain it further but she takes matters into her own hands by dropping down to kiss him.

Her lips make him forget about what he was talking about and _these_ are the kind of blackouts he likes.

* * *

Rachel is walking to her car after glee club rehearsals when he slips his hand into hers. Sam watches as her eyes grow alarmingly larger than normal and it automatically makes his day because he had been counting on that kind of reaction from her. She stops walking and sputters a little, trying to coherently ask why they're holding hands in the middle of the McKinley parking lot where _students _and _faculty_ could spot them.

"This – Sam – what –"

He decides right then and there that making her speechless whenever possible would be his sole mission in life. It's adorable, she's adorable, and maybe Sam should be scared because it's only been a few weeks since she took over the glee club but seeing her in school was starting to become the highlight of his day.

He gives her a warm smile, walking back to where she had stopped, his fingers still entwined with hers. She's looking up at him and her cheeks are _legit_ blushing. Sam presses a kiss on her forehead because _god_, she's so cute, before tugging her arm and walking to the direction of her car. Sam brought his own so when they're standing right beside her Prius, he snakes an arm around her waist and presses a light kiss on her lips to say goodbye.

She's taken off-guard because this is the first time they've done anything in public. "What is going on?"

Her little whisper makes him guffaw and he just shoots her another smile before jogging off back to school where the football team was still practicing. He's by the doors when he looks back to see her still standing there, her blush visible from where he's standing. He laughs again, yelling that he'll drop by her place after football practice.

Later, she'll kiss him and tell him not to surprise her like that again. Afterwards, she'll reprimand him for showing their relationship off to the group of freshmen that she knows _he knows_ has been looking at her with a little too much interest.

He tries to save face. "That wasn't –"

"It's cute," she mumbles against his lips before shutting both of them up effectively.

He really likes how smart she is.

* * *

Rachel calls his cell while he's in Kentucky with his family.

Stacie and Stevie are older but they still love it when he drives the distance just to see them. The twins are seven and he thinks they've grown into their own persons now. Stevie is shy but he's into the things Sam was (still _is_ into_)_ when he was younger – superheroes, cartoons, and all the shebang that makes Sam puff his chest out a bit because he knows he had a hand in his sibling's direction of interest. Meanwhile, Stacie is a little superstar, using dance as her medium to shine bright in school. Sam hopes she didn't get that from him because dancing only brought memories of his time working for a strip club, and that's the last kind of dance he wants his little sister to be doing. But she's happy, and Stevie's happy, and his parents are happy, so Sam's proud of what his family has accomplished.

"Hey there, pretty lady."

Stacie looks up at him curiously, and he knows she's itching to ask who's the pretty lady on the other end of the phone but their dad's always been strict about manners and disrupting someone on the phone isn't very polite. He gives his sister a wink and tells them to go play but to stay where he can see them. Stevie drags his nosy sister to the jungle gym, ignoring her protests (_Sammie has a girlfriend and I want to knoooooow!)_.

Sam doesn't have favorites but sometimes, he really has extra love for the little blonde boy.

"Sam!" she greets, and he smiles because he hadn't even been away from Lima, and in extension her, for more than 5 hours and it already feels like forever. His family may be in Kentucky but Lima's always felt more like home than anywhere else. "How's Kentucky?"

"It's great. The twins are so big now, it's crazy."

"Oh, that's cute. And I'd love to talk about your family right now, Sam, really, but I have a dilemma."

His stomach suddenly feels heavy and when did that happen? When did his feelings become tied with hers? "Okay, what's up?"

Rachel immediately launches on a tirade about the glee club and how much she still wants to do a week wherein they tackle all artists from Ohio. And it takes him by surprise because here he was, miles away from her, thinking that she's having doubts about herself or Kurt and Blaine are missing again or she's just in trouble and he's not there to help her, and he doesn't feel the slightest bit annoyed that she calls him about something so trivial instead.

In fact, Sam's glad that he's the one she calls, no matter if it's the simple things or the big things, just as long as she knows she can rely on him no matter what. And he feels the slightest bit crazy because this thing for Rachel's becoming bigger than he ever thought was possible – and that _shit's _scary because you don't just dive in with a girl like Rachel because you _want_ to, it's mostly because you _need_ to.

(What if he starts _needing_ her?)

"And honestly, as much as I want to help everyone tackle their personal demons," she explains, talking a mile a minute. "It wouldn't hurt the club to have them follow the lesson plan I actually take the time to make every once in awhile."

She continues to rant about songs and eventually, it segues into musicals and Barbra and New York (which happens more often than one would think). He doesn't understand fifty percent of what she's saying but it's okay because he actually likes it when she does this.

She doesn't treat him with kid gloves like everyone else does. She doesn't think he's dumb, and that makes him _want_ to understand the other fifty percent she talks about. It makes him want to learn, to be able to talk with her about those things because _finally_, there's someone who doesn't put him down.

He gets a feeling this relationship's going to bite him in the ass one day.

* * *

And it does – bite him in the ass, he means.

Rachel is leaving for New York today, joining Kurt and Blaine who flew out days before her. He watches as she says goodbye to her dads and Mr. Schue, her eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. She's hugging them tightly, as if she'll never see them again, and to be honest, Sam knows they probably won't. Unless they visit her in New York, he knows that Rachel's never coming back to Lima.

She's going to New York and that'll be it. She'll achieve her dreams one way or another and this little town in Ohio will be nothing but a memory for her.

And _fuck_, call him a martyr or stupid or selfish, but he wants to see her off. Despite what happened (her trying to get him back and him ignoring her until she finally backs off), he still cares a lot for her and _goddamn_, why is this so hard?

Sam hates himself for _needing_ to be at the airport (again, _not_ wanting, but needing).

"Rachel," he stands a few feet away from them. Much like her reaction in the auditorium two weeks ago, she whips her body immediately towards the direction of his voice. Her mouth forms a little 'o', as if she truly had never entertained the idea of him seeing her off. He doesn't blame her for being surprised because he upped his ignorance game another level after the incident.

Her dads and Mr. Schue hug her one last time before driving off, giving them the privacy they needed.

"I wasn't expecting you to come."

"I didn't really want to," he admits. "But I needed to."

(There he is again with the need and not the want – _goddamn_ Evans, why?)

"Sam," she warns him, sounding a bit tired. He's not surprised to hear the wariness in her voice because he knows how much effort she's given in trying to get him to listen to her. His phone was still filled with unheard messages and his kitchen was still filled with muffins she kept on leaving on his doorstep.

And he knows how sincere she was in all of those actions but what she did cut a little too deep to be healed by chocolate chip goodies and he's just not ready.

"I didn't come here to fight, I promise. Scout's honor."

Rachel raises an eyebrow. "You were never a scout, Sam."

"I could've been."

One corner of her lip rises a little, and without his control, Sam feels infinitely lighter than he has since that day in the auditorium. He resents that she can still make him feel better, despite having made him feel the absolute _worst_ that day. It's silly that he hates something that makes him feel better but who ever said that _romance_ (not the L world, he refuses to call it that because then, he'd be so screwed) was logical?

Her eyebrows furrow after awhile, when he doesn't say anything more. He can see it in her body language that she's nervous. Normally, Rachel Berry is always so put together but clearly, him coming to see her off wasn't something she had expected at all. Like, not even a five percent chance, it seemed. And he also knows that Rachel hates being surprised because despite her best efforts to let go of her controlling nature, a cheetah can only change so much spots before it can't anymore.

(Or something like that, Sam doesn't really know the actual saying, to be honest.)

"Why are you here, Sam?"

"I don't know," she bites her lip at this and he tries to revert his gaze to another place because focusing on her lips won't help any of them tie loose ends. In fact, he's pretty sure he's one lip bite away from fraying all their ends, making it messier than ever before. "You're leaving Ohio and I just feel like this is the last time you're ever going to be here, and I hate myself for needing to say goodbye but I feel like I'm going to hate myself more if I didn't."

(_Needing, needing, needing_.)

H notices her eyes warm a bit at his rant. She wrings her hands together in an effort to stop them from reaching out to him. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Sam."

He nods and shoves his hands down his pants pockets, unable to say anything more.

"I'm sorry you had to see me kiss Jesse too. And I don't know if you've read the notes I attached on the muffins I left on your doorstep or if you've listened to the messages I left on your phone but I truly am sorry. I wasn't thinking," she sounds frustrated and Sam tries to focus on what she's trying to say because yeah, maybe he doesn't owe her his attention after she hurt him but he knows he's going to regret not giving her a chance to explain in person. A few years down the line, when she's on stage accepting her Tony or something, he's going to think back to this moment and he's might end up wanting to hit himself for not listening to her.

"I got so caught up in Jesse because he reminds me of so much New York and everything I lost the first time around. And he's always been so supportive of my dreams, albeit sometimes he shows it in the worst possible way. Baby chickens still haunt my dreams, sometimes, you know?"

He raises an eyebrow and she shakes her head, trying to get back on track and not remember all the _eggs_.

"And anyway, I just got _so, so _caught up in all of it. It's not forgivable, it's a pathetic excuse at best, but that's what happened."

Rachel takes a step towards him, checking to see if he's going to back away like he did every time she tried to approach him in school after the incident. He doesn't this time, so she takes a few more steps towards him until she's directly in front of him. He can smell her perfume and suddenly, after weeks of being Rachel-free (or as Rachel-free as he could be given that his apartment is filled with her baked goodies) he's filled with her again and it's so _addicting_ but at the same time, he feels so _suffocated_.

(Addicting because he wants – _needs – _her, likes her, feels really strongly about her but at the same time, it's suffocating because she hurt him and it sucks that whenever he thinks about her, all he remembers is _Jesse_ and _kissing_ and his chest _aching_.)

"I forgot about the people who have been there for me from the start, and not just whenever they feel like popping back in. And in the process, I've hurt you – the person who's always been there for me and who's only wanted what was best for me," she hesitantly reaches a hand to intertwine in his. He lets her. "And there's not a single moment wherein I don't regret doing what I did, Sam. You're still the person who matters the most. I'm _so_ sorry."

Is it weird that he believes her?

Despite everything, he knows she regrets what she did. But it doesn't change the fact that he can't stop looking at her without thinking _Jesse _and _New York_ and _fuck, I'm staying in Ohio_.

And then, like someone just suddenly flicked a switch in his brain, an epiphany comes raining down on him: maybe they just weren't meant to go down this path. If it wasn't for Jesse, then New York would have torn them apart instead because he knows he's destined to stay in Ohio and she's destined, more than anything else, to thrive and be alive in New York.

And it sucks because he really likes her (_needs _her, quite possibly even _love _her).

He nods his head and tightens his grip on her hand.

"I forgive you," he looks directly in her eye to make sure she understands. It still hurts but that little light bulb moment has given him some clarity. "But it doesn't change anything, you know."

She breathes in deeply and looks down, unable to look him in the eye. "Sam –"

Sam takes his other hand to tilt her head back up again. "Rachel, you're going to go to New York. You're going to NYADA. You're going to graduate. And one day, you're going to be up on stage, singing your heart out and earning that Tony award. I'll be in Lima, coaching the glee club and silently rooting for you as I watch you on TV. And I won't even cross your mind then, because you'll have to thank your cast and crew, and all of your fans. Or maybe you will, think of me that is. And I'll be there, on your wall, remember? Wearing tight sparkly gold shorts."

Rachel rests her head on his shoulder and maybe it's stupid that he snakes a hand on her waist to hold her a little bit closer. But he'll take this last chance to have her with him. "And this moment will just be a small step to your journey."

She presses a kiss on his collarbone and he just holds her tighter.

"Thank you, Sam."

* * *

Sam gets a call in the middle of the night and he carefully extracts himself from the arms of his girlfriend to answer it in his living room, away from possibly being heard. The name flashing on the screen makes him a little nervous and whole lot wary because it's not really a name he's used to getting calls from.

"Hello?"

He's met with silence and when he asks if this is some ironic butt dial meant to give a bit of excitement in his routine Lima life, a soft laugh comes from the other end. It makes him take a seat on the kitchen counter because all of a sudden, he doesn't trust his legs to keep him up.

"Hi Sam."

It's odd to hear her say his name again because the last time they talked was when she left for New York. Any contact after that fateful day at the airport were just emails that were sent from time to time, whenever one of them felt a little bit _weaker_ and needed to reach out to a relationship that they both knew was doomed.

(And in those moments, Sam felt like maybe he wasn't the only one _needing_.)

But then, the emails became fewer as her career started to skyrocket and Sam's glee club started to win competition after competition. The words became shorter and the stories became impersonal until finally, it just stopped altogether. He never went to New York City, always citing the hustle and bustle as something he never really liked in the first place whenever Blaine would ask why (his best friend knew better but Sam's grateful he never once pointed the true reason out). And Rachel, just as he had predicted years ago, never came back to Lima.

He doesn't blame her. A star with that big of a fire should light up the best city.

He never tried to contact her again, and she did the same, so he guessed that they both just decided to not make it any harder than it already was.

(A feat Sam was grateful for because his poor heart wouldn't really know what to do if she still _needed _him, not when gossip columns report - and no, he does not that read those trashy things, his kids just gossip loudly in class - that she's dating someone _new_. Or not new because he definitely knew who the asshole was.)

So, excuse him if he doesn't know exactly what to feel upon hearing her voice for the first time in years. "Rachel."

"I'm sorry if I woke you."

"It's okay," he mumbles into his phone, looking back at his bedroom door hesitantly. There was nothing bad in answering a phone call from a friend, right?

(Who was he kidding?)

"I was awake anyway."

She makes a humming sound on the other line and he knows she knows he was fast asleep. Maybe it's because she still remembers how his half-awake voice sounds like. But maybe it's just because it's the middle of the night and logically, he would be asleep.

He's thinking too much into this phone call.

"Why'd you call?"

He hears her sigh and there's a shuffling sound, perhaps she's walking around her apartment. Sam wonders if Jesse, her _husband, _was asleep in her bed as well, just as his girlfriend was.

"The Tony awards are tomorrow and I don't know," she quietly tells him, as if he wasn't incredibly aware of the fact that her dreams were about to come true tomorrow. It was the only thing the glee club kept talking about these days. His kids were probably the biggest Rachel Berry fans in Ohio. "I just felt like I needed to call you, you know?"

(She _needed_, not just _wanted_.)

He doesn't know but he hums in agreement. "Congratulations, Rachel."

"Thanks," she brushes off his praise like it's nothing. And perhaps it is because she gets that all the time.

"Are you nervous?"

"A little but," she pauses and does something on the other end that he can't really guess. "That might just be the baby nerves."

Ah, yes. She was carrying Kurt and Blaine's baby, which he found incredibly weird, but whatever. He thinks it's great because if anybody deserved a family, it's Kurt and Blaine and as long as Rachel was okay with it, then good for everyone. Besides, he can't wait to meet his new godchild anyway.

"How's Sam Jr. anyway?"

Was it odd that they could carry on a whole conversation like this – as if this wasn't the first conversation they've had in years? But this is better, Sam thinks, than diving head first into the scary abyss their relationship crashed into.

"Kurt and Blaine are not naming him Sam Jr," she brushes him off. "Besides, it might be a girl. They might call her Rachel Jr."

"Samantha's not bad either."

Hearing her melodic laugh makes Sam walk around his apartment, shaking off the feelings that are tickling his every nerve. He listens to her breathe deeply for a moment before -

"I miss you."

Sam almost trips on the rug that his girlfriend got him ("_to make your place a little bit less bachelor,_" she said) at that statement. He drops on the couch and releases a breath. "Rachel," he warns.

"I do," she tells him. But she shouldn't because people who haven't talked in ages aren't _friends_ and if she missed him more than that, then _goddamn it_, wasn't her husband in her bedroom or something? "I wish you could be here to see me get my Tony. You always believed in me."

"Yeah," he agrees because it's true. He never once doubted in her talent. "But you have _St. James_, Kurt and Blaine there. And that should be enough."

Rachel hums in agreement again, and he doesn't understand why he doesn't just drop the phone now. They are treading on dangerous territory and they should both know _better_, right?

"I should go," she tells him after awhile, when he doesn't tell her anything else. "Early day tomorrow and whatnot."

He doesn't answer because a part of him doesn't want this conversation to end, but a bigger part of him is yelling that this phone call crossed the threshold of inappropriate about a few _I miss yous_ ago. The logical voice inside his head, the one that sounds a lot like Coach Beiste, begged him to end the phone call. But he doesn't.

She doesn't say goodbye either. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You were right."

"About what?"

"You're still on my wall."

He takes a sharp breath because he remembers two conversations about that. One was in her bedroom – and okay,_ stop_, it's not smart to reminisce on what happened after that _moment _(lips together, limbs entangled, and _goddamn it_, Evans, _stop)_. And the second conversation was at the airport.

Sam has half a mind to tell her that there are moments when he feels like he still _needs_ her, but the other half forces him to shut up. She's married. He's in a relationship. And if it didn't work out then, it's not going to work out now. He closes his eyes and tries to gather the strength to end the conversation.

"You should go to sleep, Rachel," he quietly tells her, incredibly aware of the fact that he had just ignored her statement. The silence on the other end feels like it's pushing all of his emotions onto the surface, and there she is again, being _addicting_ and _suffocating_ all at once. "You've got a big day ahead of you. Tony award and all."

"I don't even know if I'm going to win yet, Sam."

Against his better judgment, he smirks because her humility sounds fake. "Don't tell me you don't have a speech typed out already."

She huffs a little and he knows he's right. "Good night, Rachel."

"Good night, Sam."

"Good luck."

Rachel hums a little at that and he gets just the slightest bit of courage to tell her "I miss you," before any of them hang up the phone. Her silence tells him more than any words could ever attempt to. But eventually, she just drops the line and Sam crawls back into bed. He doesn't manage to sleep at all after, and the next day, he makes it a point to watch the Tony awards with Will and the others because it's easier to pretend with other people around.

He watches her walk (or rather, _waddle) _up on stage and her eyes are so bright and happy, that it kind of feels like he's in New York, winning with her as well. Sam hears her thank Kurt, Blaine, the cast and crew, and of course, Jesse St. James. And there's a slight sting but it doesn't wound him.

And while there are moments of weakness, wherein they _need_ to miss each other, Sam thinks that there is a greater need to let both of them live their own lives now. After all, missing each other doesn't mean they're meant to be with one another.

* * *

**AN: **My very first Glee fiction. I hope I did Sam and Rachel justice. For the last season, I found myself moving from not liking them together to holy shit, they are so adorable and I felt very put off when they didn't, at the very least, get a proper breakup. And I've been trying to write an alternative ending for them since the series finale and finally, I finished one.

Leave me a review!


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